by Torey Hayden
“What do you think the driver might do?”
“Kidnap me. Take me away from my mum and my dad and they wouldn’t know where I was.”
“And what feels the most frightening about finding you have the cat statue with you?” James asked.
“Because it’s such a surprise that the cat’s in there and I don’t remember taking it, but the minute I find it in there, I know I must have tooken it and everyone’s going to think I did it on purpose.”
“And that makes you feel afraid?”
“I feel scared, ’cause …” She paused, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Because … I’m running away. That’s how come I’m on the road with Shaggy, but I only remember this when I feel the cat. I want to go back so the kidnap guy doesn’t get me, but I’m running away ’cause I stole my mother’s cat.”
“That sounds like a very complicated dream. All sorts of things seem to happen that you hadn’t intended. You feel like you caused them, but, in fact, you didn’t. They just occurred.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“So what happens next?” James asked.
“I wake up.”
“It doesn’t go any further? The car just drives behind you? The cat statue is in your pocket?”
“That’s right. I never have any more of the dream than that, but I get that dream a lot. I’m always crying when I wake up and I feel so scared. Last night I went in Conor’s room.”
“Was Conor awake?”
Morgana nodded. “I think I woke him up by crying, ’cause he had his eyes open when I came in but he wasn’t sitting up ‘adjusting’. He had the covers up like this around his neck and he was just watching me come in. I said, ‘I’m scared. I had a bad dream. Can I get in bed with you?’”
Morgana paused. “Conor used to have all this stupid stuff around his bed, like metal junk, but lately it’s been pretty normal. His bed’s like anybody’s. So now sometimes I get in with him. And that’s what I did last night. ’Cause I didn’t want to call for my mum, in case it wasn’t a dream. That’s what always worries me when I first wake up. That maybe it’s real and I’m going to find I did steal the cat.”
“I see. So what did Conor do?”
“He said, ‘Don’t be scared. I got the mechanical cat.’”
“I said, ‘Where’?”
“He said, ‘Inside me.’”
“I said, ‘What’d you do, Conor? Swallow the one at Dr Innes’s playroom? Because it sounded weird the way he said it.’” Morgana laughed, her eyes twinkling. “That’d be funny, huh? If Conor ate your mechanical cat. You know, that cardboard cat you got.”
James grinned.
“But he said, no, but he could hear it singing. When I got in bed with him, he told me the song. It isn’t a song really, because it doesn’t have any music, but he said it to me. I felt better.”
“So you let Conor take care of you last night?” James asked.
She nodded. “He said, ‘I’m not scared of what you dream. I got strong cats.’ I said to him, ‘You’re strong all by yourself, Conor.’ And he said, ‘So are you.’”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Working with the transplant baby wasn’t what I’d expected,” Laura said. “He was adorable, with blue eyes and a smattering of ginger hair. A good size for a baby – over eight pounds – but he wasn’t healthy. He never cried. That was what made the biggest impression on me. This baby just laid there, staring at me.
“I did things like help administer the drugs that kept him in condition to allow dialysis, kept him connected to his machinery and kept tabs on the necessary drips. I also fed him, changed him, cleaned the equipment. Afterwards, I’d sit in a chair beside the incubator and watch over him until it was time to do it all again.
“Doubts began to plague me. Sitting there, watching him for eight hours at a time, I found it impossible to ignore what we were doing to him. Just to keep him alive long enough to try the transplant meant we had to subject him to extremely invasive medical procedures, and realistically there was only a very small chance of success. As I sat next to the incubator, I could sense his pain. The drugs used to paralyse his muscles kept him quiet.
“I kept thinking, what I was doing there? Why did I want to be a part of this? We were hurting this boy. Knowingly. We were pretending to help him, but the truth was, we were doing it for us. Keeping him alive to learn more about transplants. One of the specialists even dared articulate that. It was for the ‘greater good’, he said. We justified letting this child suffer.
“In the long hours of vigil beside the incubator I found myself mulling over Torgon and her society. If this baby had been born a Forest child, he probably would have died before his three-day feeding and that would have been the end of it. If not, Torgon would have taken him to the high holy place and put the knife across his throat.
“When I’d first learned that they did this to babies in her society, I’d been horrified. It went so deeply against the grain of everything I’d been taught in my own culture. Yet now as I sat beside this baby connected to all his expensive, invasive equipment, it occurred to me how much more complicated the issue actually was than it had first seemed. Was what we were doing to this baby any more defensible than what Torgon would do?
“The case overwhelmed me. I couldn’t leave it at work. Everything else in my life at that time began to pale because everything else seemed trivial in comparison to the issues surrounding this baby.
“I tried to explain to Fergus what was going on, why it was affecting me so strongly. It was life and death I was dealing with. If I couldn’t make my peace with what was happening, I wasn’t going to be able to go forward very well with my career. However, he just didn’t seem to understand.
“We were in my apartment one afternoon, in the bedroom, intertwined lazily on the bed, and my mind was back on the transplant baby. I said idly that I thought Torgon would be appalled by my involvement in this situation.
“Fergus snapped alert. ‘Is Torgon telling you it isn’t acceptable?’
“‘No, what I meant was that, to us, it’s about the advancement of science, so we think it’s right. But that’s not the only perspective. Right and wrong aren’t absolute. Torgon would be appalled that we are letting the baby suffer, because in her culture we’re dishonouring the child’s soul. The right thing would have been to kill it straightaway.’
“Fergus stared at me. ‘You’re saying Torgon’s telling you to kill the baby?’
“‘No, of course not,’ I said irritably. ‘Torgon isn’t telling me anything. I’m simply starting to realize that, well, maybe we’re not in such a good position to judge how others do things. Maybe what we justify in the name of science is no better than what she justifies in the name of religion.’
“Fergus was watching me carefully. ‘What does Torgon tell you to do? Does she tell you to kill the baby?’
“‘Aren’t you listening to me at all? She’s telling me nothing, Fergus. She never has. These are my insights.’
“‘Relax,’ he said in his warm, honeyed way and drew me close to him. ‘Close your eyes and float, my queen. Let’s go from this earthly plane.’
“I closed my eyes. I took in a deep breath, held it, let it slowly out and felt myself relax. Inside my head was blackness, like the night sky without stars.
“‘Does she tell you to kill the baby?’ Fergus whispered softly.
“My eyes popped open. I’d assumed he was relaxing me because I was tense. This had always been a core of our relationship – my fording out into the hard world of science and everyday life, and Fergus’s drawing me in again and helping me relax. The minute he said that, however, I knew he was on a different tack. ‘Torgon is not telling me anything. I’m not channelling her. I told you I don’t do that.’
“His eyes flickered dangerously. ‘You can’t tantalize me like this,’ he said. ‘You tell me Torgon thinks you should kill the baby, and then you drop it. You’re always teasing me like that. I know y
ou have her in your head. Please share her with me.’
“‘Torgon is most definitely not telling me to kill this baby. Got that? It’s disgusting.’
“Fergus nodded. ‘All right. But she is telling you things, isn’t she? You can’t keep it from me, Laura. The Voices know you’re channelling. They’re never wrong.’
“‘If that’s what they’re telling you, then I’m afraid they are wrong.’
“He had a particularly beguiling expression on his face, like a little boy pleading for a cookie. I leaned forward. ‘I’m not keeping anything from you, Fergus. Honest. Here, let’s just forget it. Give me a kiss.’
“Fergus pulled back sharply. ‘You can’t give up. You can’t just say you’ll no longer be a vessel, if you’ve been chosen. The Voices demand you share Torgon’s wisdom.’
“I looked at him and sighed. ‘Fergus …’
“Suddenly he lifted his palms to either side of his forehead, as if he had a dreadful headache.
“An uneasy feeling flitted over me. ‘Are you all right?’
“‘They’re growing so impatient with me.’ He stared at me with a strange desperation. ‘You must let me speak to Torgon.’
“‘I can’t.’
“‘Try!’
“‘Fergus, I can’t. She isn’t real.’
“He still had his hands to either side of his head. Lowering his head, he rocked forward on the bed. ‘Please. Please don’t let that be true.’
“Opening my arms, I went to pull him against my breast. ‘Here. Come here to me.’
“Rather than accepting my comfort, he exploded. ‘Take your hands off me!’ he screamed.
“I jumped back in surprise.
“‘All you want to do is fuck, you little bitch.’
“‘Fergus, that’s not what I was …’
“‘You are not my queen! You are the Queen of Darkness.’
“‘Fergus!’
“‘Torgon’s evil. She is not a Being of Light. She is the voice of the Queen of Darkness.’ His face was going a horrible mottled colour.
“‘What’s happening to you? Calm down now. Come on. You’re frightening me, Fergus.’
“‘Then channel her. Bring her here now. Prove she is what you say she is. Bring her to me.’
“‘I can’t. Because I was faking it! I’ve told you that a hundred million times now. I’ve told you. I was never channelling anything. Torgon is just something I made up, nothing more than an imaginary companion from my childhood. Please, you’ve got to understand that.’ I was growing tearful.
“He grabbed me. ‘You just want to fuck. That’s all you ever wanted from me. Base lust.’
“‘Fergus, no! Don’t!’
“Grasping the front of my blouse so hard the buttons popped, he pulled me down on the bed. ‘I tried to raise you up,’ he said. ‘I tried to bring you to the Light.’
“‘Stop!’ I cried, so frightened now.
“But he wouldn’t. With ferocity, he wrestled me under him and forced me hard against the bed. I struggled. I pushed and pushed. He thrust his penis into me with such force that it could have been a stake through the heart.
“‘You are the Queen of Darkness! You refuse to be lifted to the Light.’
“I was sobbing. ‘Please, please stop, Fergus. You’re hurting me. Please. Please.’
“When he came, he pulled his penis out to let the semen spew across my face. ‘Here. Eat it, you dirty, filthy cunt.’”
“I sat on the side of the bath. It had a hand-held shower attachment and I kept washing and washing. He’d left hours earlier and it was about 3:30 in the morning by then, but I couldn’t stop. There was nothing cut, nothing bleeding, nothing to show what had happened but I felt like I had worms crawling out of me.
“Just then the front door rattled abruptly. Sheer terror shot through me.
“The key turned in the lock. The handle turned. The front door went open, then hit the extent of the chain lock, clanging loudly.
“‘Laura?’ came Fergus’s voice. It was no longer fierce but querulous at the unexpected chain.
“I opened the door to the bathroom slightly but remained in the shadows, too scared even to breathe.
“‘Laura? Where are you? Let me in.’
“‘Go away,’ I said softly.
“‘I’m sorry, Laura. I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’ve come back to tell you that. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to do that.’
“‘I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to see you again. Just go away.’
“‘Oh Laura, no,” he said plaintively. ‘Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me. It won’t ever happen again. Please let me in.’
“I remained standing in the darkness of the hallway, the towel clutched to my bare skin. ‘No. Go away.’
“‘Laura, please? Say you forgive me.’ I could hear tears in his voice.
“He had his hand through the small opening afforded by the chain and was grasping up and down at empty air. From the height of his hand, I realized he was on his knees. ‘Please, please forgive me,’ he was pleading. He started to sob.
“I began to cry myself.
“‘My queen, please don’t do this to me.’
“Then things changed. When I wouldn’t answer and wouldn’t let him in, his tears began to turn to rage. He rattled the door loudly and yelled. ‘Let me in!’
“Frightened, I went back to the bathroom and locked that door.
“‘You bitch!’ he shouted. ‘Let me in!’
“Understandably, this woke my neighbours. I heard doors to other apartments opening and someone telling him to shut up. They threatened to call the police. I prayed they would.
“He shouted, wept and pleaded for an hour or so longer. Then, at long last, came silence.
“Still locked in the bathroom, I listened. Listened so hard my ears hurt. I didn’t have a watch on. I had no idea what time it was. I just kept listening. Was he still outside my door? Had he left? Was he down by my car, waiting there? I grew nauseated with fear. I vomited and still did not feel any relief.
“When I finally dared to let myself out of the bathroom, it was seven thirty in the morning. Around me were all the familiar sounds of the apartment building coming to life. I went into the bedroom, past the rumpled bedding, past my torn blouse lying on the floor, and got out a pair of clean jeans and a sweatshirt. I went then to the kitchen and opened the window because it looked out on the car park where my car was. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary down there. Gathering my courage, I went to the door of my apartment and opened it to the full extent of the chain. Seeing nothing, I took it off the chain and put my head out. Vanessa, the girl who lived down the hall, was coming out.
“‘You okay?’ she asked. ‘I mean, your boyfriend was pretty out of it last night, wasn’t he? Was he drunk?’
“I nodded. She locked her door and left. I went back inside. Getting my car keys and my purse, I closed the door to the apartment, went down the hall, down the back stairs and let myself out into the car park. I peered carefully into the back seat of the car before unlocking it. Once in, I locked it back up, started the ignition and pulled out of my parking space. A November dawn, pale and heavily overcast, made headlights a necessity. Pulling out of the car park and onto the road that led to the freeway, I headed west. And so it was that I left Boston and Fergus and my medical career behind and I never returned.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
When Laura had gone, James pulled the pages of the final story from the folder and began to read.
“I wish to go now to the high holy place and make communion with all-seeing Dwr. You will need to carry these things,” Torgon said, giving the food bags to Loki, “for what I carry is heavy enough for me.”
Loki lifted up the bundles and secured them over her shoulders.
The winter’s afternoon was waning by the time they reached the small hut.
“Look at the straw!” Loki cried in surp
rise, as she entered. “There’s piles and piles of it! Are animals allowed to stay here when it’s not in use for cleansing rites?”
“No.”
“I didn’t imagine this would be such a pleasant place by day, for ‘isolation hut’ sounds so cold and dark to me. But there’s dry wood here and the fireplace is clean. Shall I start the fire and make us food? Or do you wish to undertake your journey to the high holy place tonight?”
Torgon had begun removing her heavy outer garments when the first hard contraction came. Clenching her teeth, she arched her back against it.
Loki froze, her eyes going wide and dark. Laying down her things, she came quickly over. “My mother says one shouldn’t stiffen against the pain, for it will then go worse with you.” She reached out to pull off the last of Torgon’s outer clothes.
Torgon sank down into the straw as the contraction passed.
All the girl’s carefree cheerfulness had vanished. “Oh anaka benna, what shall we do?” she asked, her voice dismayed. “I wish now we’d never embarked on such a journey, for it’s brought the baby on.”
“No. The journey didn’t bring the baby on. It was already coming when I left. The straw you see here is what my sister brought when she prepared the hut for me. And you are here to give me aid. I trust with all your brothers, you’ve had generous experience of your mother’s birthings.”
“Me?” Loki cried and pressed her hands against her cheeks. “Oh great Dwr, me? To birth a holy child? You and me alone? Here in the forest?”
“Birthing’s easy among worker women, Loki. It’s common to make them stay in the fields until the birth and then be back again at work before the day is done. I’m sure you’ve heard your parents say how workers do it no differently than cows.”
“Anaka benna, it is not the time to chide me for my caste.”